


Travelin' Soldier

by orphan_account



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: 1960s AU, F/M, Mentions of War, Pen Pals AU, Soldier AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-01
Updated: 2015-05-01
Packaged: 2018-03-26 14:22:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3853981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>July 1967- a chance meeting between a young soldier on his way to war and a pretty girl with a bow in her hair begins an unforgettable day and a bond deeper than any they've known.<br/>Based on the Dixie Chicks song Travelin' Soldier</p>
            </blockquote>





	Travelin' Soldier

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first work for Arrow and I'm thrilled to share it. It's based on the song Travelin' Soldier by the Dixie Chicks, which is an awesome song that I highly recommend. I hope you enjoy it!

He was many hours too early for the bus, and he knew that. Honestly, he’d done it purposefully, although he wasn’t quite sure what he meant to do for the hours until the nine PM bus to Fort Ord- people-watching had never been a hobby of his (too easily distracted) and it wasn’t as though he could just sit alone with his thoughts (too painful) or read a book (didn’t bring one) or anything, really. He’d just wanted to leave home, and here he was, sitting at a bus stop at ten AM in his (incredibly conspicuous) army dress uniform with nothing to do for another eleven hours until the overnight bus spirited him away.

Later he would wonder whether it was fate that had put him at that bus stop so early, or maybe just luck. Either way, he ended up strolling over to a juke-box checker-table neon-sign diner a block down, ambling in on the tail of the breakfast rush. He took a seat in one of the red vinyl booths, stashing his army-issue duffle bag under the table, settling back into the seat and getting a squeak from the material in answer. He opened the menu and held it in front of him listlessly, his eyes passing over all the different combinations of egg-bacon-sausage-biscuit-pancake-waffle-etc without absorbing a single iota of information.

“Hey, soldier.” A bright, cheerful voice broke him from his menu-staring reverie. “What can I getcha?” He looked up and blinked. Later he would swear he heard a choir of angels, or maybe his heart stopped for a moment, or there was heavenly light shining on her, or something equally poetic and improbably. In reality there was just the tinny sound of a Beatles tune on a cheap jukebox, and the buzzy incandescent light cast odd shadows in contrast with the bright midmorning sun coming in the window. His heart did speed up for a moment, though, as his mind dropped everything to entertain a simple wow, she’s beautiful.

She had long blonde hair in a braid tossed over one shoulder with a black bow tying up the end, neat and pretty. Behind wide purple cat-eye glasses were a pair of the most striking blue eyes he’d ever seen, and her lips were painted in a perfect pink pout. She’d somehow managed to make the unflattering waitress uniform look positively glamorous, and despite the crisp, clean precision of his uniform and his clean shave and his dark blond crew cut, he felt shabby and dull next to her bright liveliness.

“Uh…,” he cast his eyes down to the menu, then back up at her. “Black coffee, please?” She scribbled on her little pad then offered him a sweet smile and walked away. It took a lot for him not to call after her and ask her to please smile like that at him again because wow.

A moment later she returned with a mug and a pot and poured him a cup of coffee, then gave him the same kind smile and said, “If you need anything else, I’m Felicity.”

As she started to walk off again he stopped her- “Wait, Felicity.” She looked back at him with her eyebrows raised. “I know this is going to sound… odd, but I’m, well, I was wondering if you’d sit down with me and maybe talk with me for a while? I’ve got a long time before my bus comes and honestly I’d rather not spend it alone.” His smile was self-conscious and timid, and she chewed briefly at her lower lip before responding.

“I get off work in an hour- if you like, I know somewhere we can go, have a little fun, you know.” He couldn’t help his eyes widening and she blushed scarlet and stuttered out, “I-I mean, innocent fun. It’s a pier. You know, rollercoasters and stupid carnival games- nothing, um, inappropriate. Or anything. I’m going to stop talking now.” She looked about ready to die and that set him immediately at ease, and his next smile was soft and genuine.

“It’ll be the longest hour of my life, I’m sure.” She grinned and hurried away, leaving him alone to sip at his coffee and stare out the window.

An hour later, she approached and told him she was off, but she had to change clothes and would be back in a minute, and if he’d like she could put his bag in the back room so he didn’t have to worry about it. A few minutes later, she appeared next to his table in a light pink sleveless dress with a black bow around the collar and black kitten heels, the black ribbon that had been in a bow at the end of her braid now tied up as a headband holding back her long blonde hair, which fell in waves over her shoulders and down her back. She smiled at him and chirped, “Shall we?” He sidled out of the booth and walked ahead of her, graciously opening the door for her and nodding politely as she thanked him.

He offered her his elbow and said, “Lead the way, Felicity.”

Taking it, she started to walk and said, “I don’t think I caught your name, soldier.”

“Oliver,” he replied. “Oliver Queen.”

“I’m Felicity Smoak and it’s very nice to meet you,” she responded, smiling up at him. After a brief pause she started with, “So did you enlist or were you drafted? Not that there’s anything wrong with having been drafted. I know plenty of people who were totally planning on enlisting but just happened to get drafted, or were drafted and thrilled about it. It’s not unpatriotic or anything, I mean, to not have enlisted, because either way you’re serving, right?” She squinched her eyes shut and huffed, exasperated with herself.

He just smiled and said, “I enlisted.”

As they walked towards the pier, the conversation got easier, and her nervous chatter got under control. She learned he was just two days past his eighteenth birthday (“Wow, you sure didn’t waste any time there, Captain America. Happy birthday, anyway.”) He learned that she was sixteen, about to be a junior at Starling High come September (“I graduated from Starling last month, can’t believe we never met before now. It’s not as though it’s a huge town or anything.” “I get the feeling we would’ve run in different circles, you know? You being a cool senior baseball star and me a lowly freshman band nerd, and all.”) They traded stories about teachers they’d both had (“Mrs. Fitz was ancient- who better to teach English, right? She probably knew Shakespeare personally.” “Can’t believe she’s even still alive- I didn’t think she’d make it past having Tommy and then me right after each other, thought we’d have killed her.”) and he gave her advice on who to avoid in her next year (“Now, and I don’t want you to think I’m objectifying you because I’m not, but Mr. Mullay may or may not have a soft spot for pretty blondes that can help your grade if you flutter your eyelashes right.” “Did you flutter your eyelashes at him? You meet the criteria.” “Thank you, but no. My friend Sara tended to have rather... inflated grades, and her sister Laurel, a brunette, never got the same consideration.” “Are you sure Sara wasn’t just getting extra tutoring, if you know what I mean?” “Sara? Never. She didn’t care enough.”)

Finally, they arrived at the pier. It was sort of a sad affair to anyone who’d been to a more impressive place, but to the residents of Starling, especially those under eighteen, it was always a blast. There were two (rather small) rollercoasters, a ferris wheel, and some little carnival games like ring-toss and balloon-popping. Being that it was midday on a Tuesday, though, most of everything was closed, so they settled for taking off their shoes and walking down the shore till they reached a small, distant dock, where they sat on the end with their toes in the water.

“Are you scared?” she asked him, kicking up a little splash. He looked over at her with a furrowed brow and she elaborated, “To go to war, I mean. I haven’t heard the most… pleasant stories. In the news and everything.”

He shrugged. “I guess I am. I don’t feel afraid, but I think I will be eventually, when everything is more real. Right now it’s all sort of just in my head- facts, you know? I know that I’m enlisting, I know that I’m going to boot camp and after that Vietnam, and I know that it’s probably going to be anywhere from bad to nightmarish, but none of it has really sunk in yet.” He paused and stared down at the water, worrying the inside of his cheek between his teeth, before saying quietly, “I think I’d be a lot more scared if I was leaving anyone behind.”

“What about your family?”

He made a noise, somewhere between a snort and a laugh, that sounded bitter and a little choked and not at all funny. “They’re not… I don’t think I can count them.” He shook his head and ran a hand through his hair, before realizing it was cut too short, so he settled for rubbing at the back of his ear instead. “I guess I’m not scared because no one else is scared for me. If there was someone I wanted to come home to… to survive for, if there was someone worrying and crying and not wanting me to go, then I guess I’d be scared. As it is, no one’s really going to miss me, so what’s it matter if I ever come back?” She looked up at him, eyes filled with equal parts shock and sadness. “I mean, I’m not going to try to die. I don’t really want to die. I just don’t feel like it would matter much if I did or not.”

She reached out and put her hand on top of his. “It would matter to me.”

After a long moment he turned his hand over and wrapped his fingers around hers, smiling at her in thanks.

Hours later, as the sun was setting and lighting up the water all shades of pink and yellow and orange, they finally stood and started strolling back down the beach towards the pier. They walked in companionable silence, still holding hands, until he noticed she was shivering and unbuttoned his coat, draping it over her shoulders. It was far too big and she blushed at the gesture but said a quiet “thank you” as she pulled it closer around her. He shoved his free hand in his pocket, the other swinging his shoes by his side, and stared up at the cloud-streaked sunset sky.

“Felicity?” he began.

“Mhm?” She lifted her eyes from where they’d been watching her feet kick up sand in front of her and looked over at him.

“I don’t want to seem too…. forward, or anything. I mean I know you probably have a boyfriend obviously-”

“What makes you think that?” She grinned at him and his mouth opened and closed a couple of times before he finally responded, blushing.

“I- that’s not the point. The point is that I wanted to ask you if I could write to you after I leave? I don’t really have anyone to send a letter to and I just…I like you, and I’d like to write you.” He trailed off awkwardly and looked away from her.

She pretended to think about it for a long moment, humming uncertainly, pursing her lips and furrowing her brow, until he started to look disappointed and mumble polite never-minds, then she bumped him with her shoulder and smiled reassuringly. “Of course you can. I’ll write you down my address as soon as we get back to a pen and paper.” He grinned at the ground and thanked her.

Dusk was just beginning to fall when they arrived back at the pier, and after they’d tried (unsuccessfully) to get all the sand off their feet, they put their shoes back on and started the walk back towards the bus stop. They were walking even more leisurely than they had been, trying to make time slow down with the tempo of their steps, make the hours drag and the day last longer. It took Oliver by surprise when Felicity stopped suddenly and grabbed his arm excitedly, dragging him towards a photo booth.

“I love these things! They’re so fun, I must have a million photos of me and my friends in my room somewhere, we always have to stop and- do you have a quarter?- take photos when we see one.” She sat down first and he settled in next to her and was still looking over at her smiling primly for the camera when the first flash went off. He jumped a little and she giggled at his surprise, which made him crack a smile, and that was the next. The third one they both made silly faces, her tugging out her ears and puffing out her cheeks so she looked like a monkey, and him crossing his eyes and touching the tip of his nose with his tongue. They cracked up laughing again after that one, and the fourth flash went off. The fifth photo was of them grinning sideways at each other. Finally they sobered up and she rested her head on his shoulder and he just had time to put his head on top of hers and smile softly at the camera before the last flash went off. They sat there like that for a few heartbeats longer than necessary before the sound of the photos printing brought them back. For a brief, embarrassed moment, they both blushed and looked away from each other, until Felicity recovered her excitement and pushed Oliver out of the booth, snatching both photo strips from the little printer tray. She handed one to him and looked over the snapshots.

“These came out awesome- now you’ll at least have something nice to look at when you’re across the ocean, soldier.” She elbowed him with a smile and started walking again.

Before too long they were back at the diner, where she slipped into the back room for a moment and came back towing his duffle and with her address written on a piece of paper, which she folded and tucked into his breast pocket, where the photos from the booth already rested. Her hand may have rested on his chest a moment longer than necessary, but if either of them noticed, they didn’t show it.

For the last hour or so, they sat on the bus stop’s little bench, staring up at the sky and inventing constellations. Half the time Felicity would insist that Oliver’s consisted entirely of airplanes and satellites, and they argued until they looked back and saw that one of the stars he’d used was gone, proving, at least to her, that it had indeed been an airplane. As the time for the bus’s arrival drew near, however, they gradually lapsed into silence. Over the course of the hour, without either of them really noticing, their hands had become entwined and her head had found its way back onto his shoulder, his cheek resting on her hair. To each, the solace of the other’s touch was a comfort as natural as breathing, but as much as it helped soothe the immediate ache of their fast-approaching separation, in the back of their hearts they both knew that it would be that little bit worse in the long run having had and lost something as simple and sweet as holding hands.

At last, they heard the grumble and sputter of the approaching bus. He tightened his hold on her hand and closed his eyes, trying to memorize the exact feeling of this moment and tuck it away in whatever part of him would preserve the sensation and keep it as close to perfection as possible, unaware that she was doing the exact same thing. The dreaded vehicle screeched to a stop in front of them and he stood first, pulling her to her feet after him. She took off his green coat and helped him shrug it back over his shoulders, doing up the buttons for him just for an excuse to stand near him a moment longer. She looked up at him and blue met blue, and for a moment she thought he was going to kiss her, until he pulled her into a hug.

She pulled back first and stood on her tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek, straightening his tie and saying softly, “Take care, soldier. And don’t forget to write, okay?”

“I won’t,” he murmured in reply, and for a heartbeat he hesitated and it seemed to her as though he was about to do something, kiss her maybe, or say something else, but the moment passed and he turned and got on the bus. She tried not to be disappointed. He shook the driver’s hand, then took the first available seat with a window facing the bus stop. Pressing his hand against the glass, he smiled down at Felicity, who waved and waved until the bus was long gone and out of sight. Shivering, she trudged back to the diner and disappeared inside, the door ringing and then banging shut behind her like the bittersweet finale to the day, the quiet emptiness of the diner and the night outside feeling a whole lot like the quiet emptiness in her heart of missing him already, this sweet soldier boy she’d not even known half a day.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!  
> (Also shoutout to prlncebellamy on tumblr for pre-reading this before I posted it)


End file.
